Moonlight Rising
by Zenobia Frostmoon
Summary: Leandra, a sixth year student of the House of Ravenclaw, falls for the new Professor Lupin, while her friend Chloe gets caught in a whirlpool of pleasure and pain. OCxLupin, OCxOC. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Hogwarts Express rumbled along the tracks, its rhythmic jolting as effective as a lullaby. Leandra Maycomb sat in the compartment with her head on her chest, torn between sleep and wakefulness by the soft movement of the train. It was the sixth time she rode the train to Hogwarts and the sixth time she couldn't fight off sleep. She had really tried to stay awake and speak with her friend opposite to her, but drowsiness had washed over her within an hour of the ride and she was inattentive for the rest of the trip.

Across from her sat Chloe Williams, who was watching the trees go by in the darkening evening. Occasionally she glanced at Leandra, wondering if it would be possible to start a conversation _now_. But Leandra remained immobile, her head hanging forward, her hair in front of her face like a brown curtain. Inwardly, Chloe winced at Leandra's physique. She was so thin and fragile-looking that Chloe was convinced she would shrivel up and die if she caught the flu. Chloe promised herself, not for the first time, to give her friend her dessert in addition to her own at mealtimes in an attempt to get some meat onto those bones. At least, she added in afterthought, she would, if the dessert weren't so damned tasty. Chloe liked to think of herself as _curvalicious_, and she was proud of her appearance. _Rubenesque_ was another such word – a lovely muggle term she had picked up a year past. She smiled. She was vain, she knew it. But what good was a beautiful body if you didn't revel in it?

She was pulled out of her musings when the train slowed to a halt. Leandra stretched. "Are we there already?"

"We can't be," frowned Chloe. "We're what, maybe half way?" Outside, everything was dark; the only thing she saw in the window was the reflection of the compartment. The train showed no sign of revving up again and Chloe was just about to go into the corridor and ask what had happened when the lights flickered and went out. One of the girls sharing their compartment pulled out her wand – but to her confusion, no light shone at its tip when she whispered the incantation.

"What's going on?" None of the four students could find an answer.

Suddenly the air became cold: so cold that the girls could see their breath form in front of their faces. No one said a word. Slowly, hoar frost formed along the windowpane. Chloe shivered, and noticed that Leandra was doing the same.

Moments passed, and Chloe felt her anticipation for the new year, her joy of seeing her friend again, all of her happiness fading and being replaced by an uncommon sense of dread. A rock formed in her stomach. Through the darkness, she thought she could make out shapes, shadows, in the corridor. And just as she felt the cold of the room reach her emotions, there was a bright flash of light somewhere in the train – and within seconds, warmth returned to her skin and her soul. Chloe and Leandra exchanged a look of confusion mixed with fear. The two other girls started chattering nervously. It wasn't long before the train began moving again.

For the rest of the journey, Leandra remained awake.

* * *

><p>In the Great Hall, the newly arrived students were talking about the incident on the train. At first, everyone presented their own theory, but after some debate, most of them agreed that it – whatever it was – had come for Harry Potter. Chloe rolled her eyes. Ever since he had come to Hogwarts, he was the centre of attention. Either for being the Boy Who Lived, or for getting himself into a spot of deadly trouble. Some saviour he was.<p>

After the choir finished its greeting song, Professor Dumbledore stepped forth and gave his annual introductory speech, explaining that the school was, for the time being, under the protection of Dementors, the ruthless guardians of Azkaban. A whisper went through the crowd. That was what had been on the train, then. Leandra leaned closer to Chloe. "There are more of those things around here?" Chloe shrugged and nodded.

"Happiness," Dumbledore was saying, "can be found in the darkest of times, if you remember to turn on the light."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chloe muttered, glancing at Leandra. Leandra only looked back with large brown eyes. Chloe cocked an eyebrow and listened to the rest of the welcoming ceremony in silence.

* * *

><p>In contrast to the journey to Hogwarts, the first days of classes passed uneventfully. Leandra let the incident with the Dementor glide from her mind and concentrated on studying, at the same time not neglecting her writing. Her newest material was hidden safely at the bottom of her trunk. Chloe had told her to send in a second collection to the publishing house, as the first one had been such a success two years ago. Leandra had merely smiled at this.<p>

She was sitting in the Ravenclaw common room with a hot cup of cinnamon scented tea, reviewing the new chemical substances they had learned about in Potions class earlier that afternoon, when Chloe let herself fall into the armchair opposite. Leandra looked up into Chloe's darkened face.

"What happened?"

"I saw you know who." Chloe sighed and let her head fall back.

"_What!_"

"Oh, not _him_!" Chloe raised her head, an expression of annoyance on her face. "Natalie," she groaned.

"Oh." Leandra looked to the ground. Natalie had left Chloe just before the summer holidays this year. But she hadn't just left her. She had left her for Tristan Kendrick, a Hufflepuff boy in the same year. And judging by Chloe's reaction to seeing her ex-girlfriend again after the summer, Natalie was happy. Leandra found herself at a loss of what to say. She hated seeing her friend torn by such emotions and she felt awkward, not knowing how to make her feel better.

"I don't know what to do," Chloe sighed. "I don't know what kind of spell he cast on her. It's been so long and she's still so... into him." She looked past Leandra and out of the window where a songbird was flying loops.

Leandra bent over her tea, trying to conceal the look of disbelief on her face. It couldn't be that Chloe still believed in that mad theory. "Chloe... have you ever considered that maybe... just maybe... he didn't bewitch her?"

Anger came over Chloe's features. "Are you suggesting that she meant to leave me for him?" She sat upright in her chair. "No. That's not possible. We were like the sun and the sky, like night and day... we are meant to be!" She clenched her fist. "Tristan used magic to steal her from me. I know this is true." Her features softened as she looked Leandra in the eye. "She wouldn't have left me. Not just like that."

Leandra couldn't find an answer. She sipped at her tea. Chloe leaned back with unfocused eyes and was quiet; but Leandra knew that the look on her face meant anything but silence on the inside.

* * *

><p>The students filed into the classroom and found their seats. Despite Chloe's initial protests, Leandra secured a desk for the both of them at the front of the room. As soon as everyone settled down, the professor leaned against a table with his arms crossed in front of his chest and surveyed his students. Leandra reckoned she saw a hint of approval in his eyes. "I," he began, "am Professor Remus Lupin and will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor. During the course of this year we will discuss non-verbal incantations, advanced shielding techniques, magical parasites and what to do when you've been targeted by a vampire." Leandra listened attentively, captivated by Lupin's voice. It was comforting and kind, and reminded her of something, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She was still trying to place it several minutes later when she realised she was no longer paying attention to his words. She shook her head and forced concentration. "And that's why they're so important," Lupin was saying. Damn it, she thought. "Can anyone think of any situations in which they could be useful?" Leandra sighed inwardly and squinted at Chloe's parchment. She was not surprised to find it bereft of notes.<p>

"What is he talking about?" she whispered.

Chloe looked at Leandra incredulously. "Non-verbal incantations! Aren't you paying attention?"

Lupin walked through the rows of desks and called on one of the students. "At night," the student answered.

"Yes," Lupin said. "When else?"

"During class," someone else chimed in, causing a chuckle to wash over the class.

"Perhaps, though I believe that if Professor Dumbledore hears that I'm teaching you non-verbal incantations solely for the purpose of disrupting your lessons, I'll need to look for a new line of work. Any other ideas?"

"When you're gagged," Chloe suggested.

"Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" A boy sneered to her right.

"Shut up, Flanagan."

"That's very correct," Lupin said, his voice silencing the snickering that seeped through the air. "When you've been prevented from speaking – for whatever reason." He smiled, and Leandra found herself smiling as well. The professor paced the room as he explained in further detail the benefits of non-verbal incantations. Leandra felt a rush of anxiety every time he passed her. "Let me demonstrate," he finally said and pointed his wand toward the book cases in the back. A moment later, a thick book floated obediently into his waiting hand." As you have probably noticed, I used the basic _Accio_ spell, but did not even as much as whisper a word. Learning how to cast non-verbal incantations takes time. But more so, it requires willpower. I do not expect each of you to master this technique. I do, however, expect you to pass the theoretical examination at the end of the year." Several students sighed in relief, others in disappointment. "Now, non-verbal incantations work in the same way as spoken incantations do. The important part is that the incantation must be thought as clearly as speech in the caster's mind." For the rest of the session, Lupin explained the differences between verbal and non-verbal incantations. When he finally dismissed the class, Leandra discovered that she could not remember a thing he had explained, but found that she had memorised every detail of his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Autumn had come right on time: the leaves on the trees were a full, golden colour, and the wind blew colder. Students started wearing scarves and heavier robes and spent less time luxuriating in the sun after classes. It was a crisp, sunny afternoon that found Chloe strolling the Hogwarts grounds. It had been a typical day at the school with experiments and wand-waving that had led to few new revelations. Chloe was in a bad mood. She wanted to be alone. She kicked a stone down the hillside path with a discontented huff.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard her name being called. She turned around and saw someone – a male someone – walking towards her in an unhurried fashion. By the colours he wore, Chloe identified him as a Slytherin. She shifted her weight and waited. When he finally came into better view, she rolled her eyes. Matthew Greene.

"What do you want," she asked before he had a chance to greet her.

"We're awfully friendly today, aren't we?"

Chloe frowned. Matthew gazed at her through crooked spectacles. She tried not to stare at his left eye as it dwarfed the right one, nor at Matthew's unnaturally broad frame. She took a step back, afraid that his appearance might rub off on her.

"I don't have a reason to be friendly to you."

"On the contrary," he took a step closer to her and his scent filled her nostrils. It was a clean, masculine smell that she suddenly remembered. She regarded Matthew with a cocked eyebrow as he continued, "I have something that will certainly interest you."

Chloe made a face, remembering the last time he had said that to her. It was the year before she left for Hogwarts for the first time, at the Greene family's estate. Matthew's father, Nikolai Greene, had been a good friend of her father, Kallias Williams. The adults were socialising as she and Matthew played in the garden when Matthew suddenly told her he had something interesting to show her. Upon asking what it was, he dropped his trousers. It took weeks to forget again. "I hope you have something truly interesting this time, Matty."

Matthew smiled conspiratorially, pulled a small, blue-green vial out of his robes and dangled it in front of Chloe's face. "This." She waited, not wanting to ask the question he obviously expected. She merely looked at him, hoping her expression mimicked disinterest. "Harmony," he said.

Chloe's breath caught in her throat. "I beg your pardon?"

"That's right," he grinned. "And it's all for you, free of charge. Just because."

It took a moment for the information to sink in. Questions clogged Chloe's mind. How was he able to smuggle Harmony into the school? He couldn't have made it himself, could he? Or did he buy it from someone? And why, most of all, was he giving it to her? Chloe wanted to reach for the vial, but stayed her hand. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. I had a bit of this stuff left over and wanted to share the goodness. I figured you were the type of person who would truly appreciate it."

Chloe hesitated. The grin on Matthew's face suggested he knew as well as she did that her curiosity would prevail. Finally, she took the vial from him and stowed it into the inside pocket of her robes. "If you're cheating me on this –"

"Relax. Take it as a... tribute to our childhood friendship."

There was a glint in his eyes that made Chloe mistrustful. The way he was eyeing her didn't help, either. She pursed her lips, unable to find the strength to object. She was relieved when Matthew nodded at her and turned to go, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Harmony. A strong, somewhat dangerous drug commonly associated with practitioners of dark magic. Having this vial in her possession was a sure way to be expelled and thus stigmatised for the rest of her life. Risky. A sudden rush of adrenaline originated from her centre travelling through her veins and into her fingertips. She smiled. She had missed this feeling far too long.

* * *

><p>Leandra entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom with an unfamiliar feeling in her gut. She felt flushed and clumsy. She took her seat next to Chloe, readied a fresh piece of parchment and sighed inwardly.<p>

"What's wrong?" asked Chloe.

"I don't know. I'm not feeling so well today, I guess." Leandra would give no more answers to any questions and waited for class to begin. Lupin walked into sight a few moments later. She suddenly felt that her hair needed straightening and reached for her comb. Shocked at herself, she stopped rummaging in her bag.

This lesson, after two weeks of theory, the students would have a chance to practise non-verbal incantations on their own. The desks were moved to the side and everyone stood in a long queue, waiting for their turn to try the accio-spell. Most of the students' attempts remained unfruitful – a twitching book at the back of the room at best.

"It's all about willpower," Professor Lupin explained. "Don't just think the incantation. Feel it. Want the book to come into your hands." A few more students were able to get the book to move, but never more than a few inches. Finally it was Leandra's third and last turn to try. She pointed her wand at the book and thought: Accio book. Nothing happened. Accio book. She was about to lower her wand when Lupin began to speak.

"Think about a time when you really, really wanted something. Think back to that moment and remember what it felt like to want. Use those emotions to fuel your spell."

Leandra hesitated. What did she want most in the world? She let her thoughts drift – then it occurred to her. Thinking of her father, she pointed her wand at the book with all the conviction she could muster. The empty space in her heart widened and all the failed attempts to gain her father's approval came together in one heavy lump of emotion. She tried to shape this longing for love into magical energy surging through her and into her wand. Accio book! Then the book moved – slowly, it began levitating towards her. As Leandra widened her eyes in surprise, she lost her concentration and the book fell to the ground and laid still. She looked at where the book lay, a few feet away from where it had been a moment ago, and wasn't sure whether to be proud or disappointed.

"Good!" Lupin exclaimed. "That's how it works. Very well done, Miss Maycomb." A smile warmed Leandra's face as she proceeded to the end of the queue. Chloe greeted her with an expression that clearly said: not bad!

After everyone had had three tries, Professor Lupin told them to return to their seats. Only one other student had been able to move the book farther than Leandra had, others had achieved similar results. By the end of the practical exercise, the book had crossed more than half of the room. Professor Lupin placed it back into the bookshelf with a wave of his wand and turned to the students. He announced the homework for this session (which was to practise the accio spells on their own) and thanked the class for their attention. Chairs screeched as they were pushed back and books disappeared into bags when Lupin walked over to Leandra. "Miss Maycomb, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with you."

Leandra blinked. "Uh, sure." Her heartbeat quickened and a shiver went through her. She looked over at Chloe, who made a small, mocking 'o' with her mouth before retreating.

"I'll wait for you outside," Chloe winked at her friend and left along with the rest of the students.

Leandra's fingertips were tingling and her thoughts seemed to come and go faster than a snitch at full speed. She tried to think of something to say, but came up with nothing useful. To her relief, it was her professor who spoke first. "Miss Leandra Maycomb," he said, still using his teaching tone. "I knew I'd heard your name before." He turned to face Leandra, as she beat her fingers rhythmically against her upper thighs.

"How is that, Sir?"

"The Literary Wizard, of course!" He slapped a copy of the Literary Wizard gleefully on the desk between them. A wave of relief mixed with pride washed over Leandra. "I have been an avid reader for years, and must say that I believe your writing truly deserved winning that contest."

Leandra felt her face grow warm. Strange. None of the other compliments she received had meant this much to her. "Thank you," she mumbled, unsure if she could look at the smile on Lupin's face much longer.

"I see you're modest." Lupin's eyes sparkled. "You needn't be, you've got real talent. May I ask how you learned to write so well?"

Leandra blushed. "My mother read to me every night when I was little, and as soon as I could, she encouraged me to write. And so I wrote." The thought of her mother filled her heart with a warm sadness. "She always used to edit my stories for me." Leandra felt a smile grow on her face, but the hurt inside deepened. She swallowed and willed the pain to stop. When it did, the smile on her face faded as well. "She told me once that words can be stronger than magic."

"Indeed they can." Lupin stood and spoke over his shoulder. "This is actually why I wanted to speak to you." He began pacing the room. "As you know, Hogwarts is currently surrounded by creatures that feed on anything positive found within man. Though they're forbidden to come close to the school, their presence is affecting everyone. There isn't a single student or teacher here that hasn't felt his hopes and happiness be drained from him, even just a bit." He turned to face his student. "This is where your talent comes in." Leandra raised her eyebrows in surprise. What could she possibly do against the Dementors? "I've spoken with the Headmaster and he agreed that publishing something uplifting for the students' hearts would be beneficial for morale. We need something for the students to believe in as they face this school-year. What with Black on the loose and the Dementors about, I feel that it might be difficult to keep an optimistic atmosphere here."

Leandra stared at her professor for a moment before she found the ability to speak. "You want me to write a motivational … what exactly? Speech? Article? Poem?"

"Anything you like, as long as it comes from the heart." Lupin looked straight at her. "Judging by the quality of your published work, you are the most suited student for the job. In these troubled times, what we need most is honest hope. I trust that you're the one who can bring courage to the hearts of our students."

Leandra fidgeted, played with a ring on her finger. "I'll see what I can do."

Lupin smiled at her. "Thank you, Miss Maycomb. That will be all."

* * *

><p>Chloe giggled. "No wonder you fancy him."<p>

Leandra almost let go of the Snargaluff vines she was restraining. "I don't... I mean... how did you..."

"Lee. Come on." Chloe grinned and plunged her hand into the opening that had just been revealed by the plant. Her hand emerged again with a grapefruit-sized, pulsating pod, which she promptly dropped into a bucket. She turned to Leandra. "It's hard not to see it. Think about it: you never pay attention in his class; rather, all your attention is on him. You fidget every time someone mentions him, and your eyes light up when you talk about him. See? It's happening right now!" Leandra felt herself blush. "I'd say that's condemning evidence of romantic interest." Chloe smiled, amused at how her friend was squirming even now. In all the years they'd known each other, Leandra had always been a diligent student. In that first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson it had been the first time that she didn't pay exact attention to what the teacher was saying. Now, she was in front of Chloe, shrinking into herself, as if she had been caught with her hand in the jar of chocolate frogs. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," Chloe continued, as she put the Snargaluff to the other harvested plants and reached for a new one. "Your turn," she said as she set the plant down and proceeded to gather the thick, prickly vines into her hands.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Leandra admitted, waiting for the plant's opening to reveal itself. "It's like I'm not myself when I think of him." She sighed. "I start questioning everything I want to say, I'm not sure whether I want him to talk to me, or if I want to run away."

Chloe smiled. "That's what falling in love is like."

"I'm not in love," Leandra retorted.

"Go on, get the pod," Chloe told her, struggling to keep the vines from attacking either of them.

"Sorry," Leandra grabbed the fruit of the plant and pulled it out. "This is going rather well, wouldn't you agree?"

Chloe made a noise of disgust and set the Snargaluff to the others. "Are we done yet?"

"We still have five to go."

"Bah." Chloe proceeded to the next Snargaluff. They harvested it in silence. Chloe reached for the next one. "You do know student-teacher relationships are frowned upon by the general populace."

Leandra snorted. "Nothing is going to happen. So it doesn't matter whether it's socially acceptable or not."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Chloe smiled with a raised eyebrow. "You could just be aggressive about it and get what you want from him."

"I'm not you, Chloe. Go on, get the vines." She hesitated. "Chloe... do you know what love feels like?"

At that moment, Chloe let go of one of the vines. It swung at Leandra's hand. Leandra pulled back, almost a moment too late – a shallow cut now adorned her forearm.

"Blast, sorry!" Chloe put the violently thrashing Snargaluff down, out of reach.

"No worries. Doesn't hurt." Leandra pulled the sleeves of her robe over her arms. The wound slowly began to sting. Ignoring the pain, she made to continue the task at hand. They finished harvesting the Snargaluffs without another word.

* * *

><p>Chloe refused to speak to Leandra for the remainder of Herbology and on the way back to the castle. At supper, she went straight to the Slytherin table and squeezed between two girls she had been friends with in childhood.<p>

Leandra wondered what had brought about this mood swing, but wasn't as perplexed as the first time she had witnessed it. She supposed that Chloe just needed another ego-boost. She replayed their conversation from this afternoon again in her mind. Of course letting go of the Snargaluff there and then could have just been a coincidence, but Leandra was convinced that it was just one of Chloe's ways of avoiding the subject. She sighed and shrugged inwardly. She was becoming used to Chloe's somewhat unorthodox methods of communication. It puzzled her, however, why Chloe avoided the subject so. Sex was something she was open about – why not love? Leandra knew that Chloe had been in love with Natalie. She had watched it happen. While the relationship lasted, Chloe had been at her most normal. Natalie had been a great influence on her. Leandra had been sad to see them part ways, especially considering the way it happened. Chloe had demolished one bathroom and had almost set the common room on fire. Leandra had been surprised that she hadn't been expelled. She wondered if it had anything to do with her parents influence. Chloe had never said much about her parents, except that they were rich and both came from old, magical bloodlines. Leandra didn't agree that blood made a good or bad wizard, but hadn't wanted to start an argument with Chloe on their first encounter.

Leandra's thoughts drifted to her own parents. Her father had never recovered from her mother's death. At least that was the logical explanation for the heavy silence that since dictated the atmosphere at home. On top of that, her brother resented her for being the magical daughter while he had to face the life of a muggle in a wizarding household. But such was the risk when a muggle had children with a wizard. Sometimes, magic just wasn't inherited. Leandra missed her brother. Their relationship had cooled after their mother died, of stroke no less. The doctors at the muggle hospital hadn't been able to do anything. And when Leandra turned out to be the only magical offspring, it had been the end of her and Pete's relationship.

Still, Leandra was glad to be at Hogwarts. It meant that she only had to deal with her family during the summer holidays. And here, the other students left her alone, even if they considered her strange for writing muggle poetry with muggle pens into muggle notebooks. Let them think whatever they want, I don't care, she kept telling herself, though feeling this was another thing entirely.

She glanced over her shoulder. Chloe and the boy across from her were talking and laughing loudly. Her body language suggested that she was a completely different person. Leandra could clearly see the high society upbringing in her gestures and the way she bore herself in male company. Leandra turned away, not wanting to see her friend mingling with people who would condemn her for being born with mixed blood. She sighed and poked her pumpkin-potato gratin with her fork. All she wanted now was to go back to the common room with a cup of tea and write. Alone, in peace. No people, no magic, none of Chloe's bragging.

Supper-time passed slowly, but the end eventually came. Back in the Ravenclaw common room, Chloe was nowhere to be seen. She rolled her eyes, suspecting where she might be.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Leandra pushed her annoyance at Chloe out of her mind and gathered her writing utensils. She curled up in her favourite armchair in the corner near the fireplace and set her ball-point pen to paper.

_I admire him for everything he is. No – I admire him for what I see in him._

_I admire him for his __self__presence __ confidence. When he enters the room, you can feel his presence. When he speaks, you can hear years of study without conceit. He is a master in his field, or more. __Words are__ What I've seen so far is just a tiny bit of what he keeps inside._

_I admire him, for he has made his science his passion. The arts flow in his veins and I wish I could partake of just a small portion of his wisdom. When he thinks, you can almost see letters and words flit__ting__ by behind his eyes. And the answer he gives you is never wrong. _

_When he looks at me, I have to smile. I see in him someone I've always known but never met. He gives me the feeling that I can be someone, that I… that he sees potential in me. He gives me hope – dare I hope? – that someday I'll escape this madness and find my passion, just as he has found his. I'm thankful for every little word he gives me. I feel like a dog begging for scraps, and I'm rewarded for my perseverance. But I'd rather be a dog at his feet than a creature he never knew._

Leandra re-read her passage in disappointment. It wasn't what she'd hoped for, but she couldn't bring herself to toss it into the flames. She closed her notebook, locked it with a secret word, and poured herself a cup of tea.

* * *

><p>"Fancy seeing you here, Williams," Matthew said with a wink as he let himself fall into the armchair next to Chloe in the Slytherin common room. The word 'decadent' hardly did it's interior decoration justice.<p>

Chloe raised her chin a touch higher. "It's not like I'm an unusual visitor, Matty." She openly smirked in response to his scowl. With an air of dominance she turned back to the girls she'd been talking to.

Lucelia Meredith wrinkled her nose at Matthew before she continued. "Can you imagine? That Longbottom boy's Boggart was Professor Snape!"

"Oh, I was in that lesson, as well!" exlaimed Rose Griffith. "His _Ridikkulus_ charm dressed Snape - I mean the Boggart - in his grandmother's clothes. Including hat and handbag!" It was hard to tell whether Rose was shocked or amused. Lucelia shook her head and tut-tutted while Chloe chuckled heartily at the mental image, but knew better than to voice any 'blasphemic' comments in the present company.

At that moment the Malfoy boy stomped through the common room with his two goons, cursing loudly about "Potter and his lackeys", and what he'd do to him, and especially "that filthy Granger mudblood" when he got his hands on her. Without pausing, flinging curses about like a goblin on a bad day, he continued through to the dormitories.

"What was that all about?" Chloe muttered.

"Oh, _poor_ Draco," Rose sighed in response. Ah yes, that was his name. "Potter set a Hippogriff on him, didn't you hear? And Draco's sworn revenge on him. I for one certainly hope he gets what's coming his way." She cast a dreamy look in the direction in which Draco Malfoy had left. Chloe rolled her eyes and turned back to Lucelia, who shrugged.

"I'd rather like to see them duel to a mutual death. I can't say I'm fond of either of them."

"Mind," Matthew chimed in, "Potter's got the sickening talent of surviving everything that's thrown at him. And then he's praised like an award-winning pet. Bah," he scoffed, "The press should be focussing it's attention on the wizards who deserve it."

"Nevermind him," Chloe crossed her legs. "Someone will take care of him soon enough." While Lucelia raised her eyebrows, Rose regarded Chloe with a new kind of interest, and Matthew's eyes lit up with surprise and then approval as he eased himself deeper into his chair with a nod.

Chloe settled back into her own chair, her gaze fixed on Matthew's face. She remembered the rumours that surrounded the Greene family, though these rumours had always been stoutly denied at home. But what if they were true, and Matthew was indeed affiliated with the Dark Arts? And, by consequence, You-Know-Who? Chloe decided to keep an eye on him.

After several hours of idle gossip and conversation - strained now and then by politics - the common room began to empty. Eventually and much to her dislike, Chloe was left alone with Matthew. "How did you like my gift?" he asked. His voice was smooth, and Chloe discovered that she liked it - which abruptly made her dislike him even more.

"I haven't had a chance to open it yet, troll-face."

Chloe saw hurt reflect in Matthew's eyes for just a moment, triggering a feeling of regret in her chest.

"Suck muggle balls, bitchface," his eyes had gone cold again. Any feeling of warmth or empathy she may have felt a moment ago was destroyed. Chloe shot her childhood friend a look of pure hatred and stormed out of the common room.

The next morning, Leandra found Chloe sleeping soundly in her bed, unaware of the bustling going on as the other students started getting ready for a new day. Leandra hesitated, then decided to wake her friend. The only response she received was a sleepy groan as Chloe pulled her covers over her head. "Suit yourself." Leandra left Ravenclaw dormitory alone.

* * *

><p>During the day, Leandra felt strangely lonesome. Though the day didn't pass much differently than with Chloe at her side, she missed her saucy comments and sarcastic grimaces. Especially Potions Class was dull. The concoctions required a steady hand and a quick mind in order to brew properly, but Leandra quickly mastered the recipe and was finished long before any of the other students. Professor Snape looked at her finished product with a scrutinising eye and finally found nothing to fault. "Your work is exemplary, Miss Maycomb, but it seems that this is only the case when your <em>companion<em> is not here to distract you," he spoke in his characteristic, nasal drawl. From the expression that accompanied his mention of Chloe (and the sniggering that followed from nearby tables), Leandra gathered that he was of the same opinion as most of Hogwarts seemed to be; that she and Chloe were lovers. Leandra bridled herself before objecting. She would rather keep everyone in the dark about for whom her true feelings were reserved. Instead, she watched the bubbles rise from the bottom of the vial to the top of the translucent green liquid. When the Potions Master turned to scold two boys at the back of the room for setting off a minor explosion, Flanagan spoke to Leandra. "Where is she today, anyway?"

"She's sick," Leandra replied without bothering to turn around.

She could hear his sneer even before he spoke. "That's not what I heard." Leandra showed no intention to reply, but he continued, "I heard there was quite a party over in the Slytherin boy's dormitory last night." Leandra clenched her fists beneath the table, still staring straight ahead. "Greene told me – you know, the big oaf with the glasses – that she was passed around like a puppet, and everyone had a go with her." He laughed. "In _every_ which way. Just imagine ten guys fu-"

"You shut the hell up, Flanagan!" Leandra shouted, standing up and knocking over her chair, which in turn sent the table crashing to the floor along with her alchemical instruments. "She is in a whole different class of living beings than you can ever hope to be, you miserable blast-ended skrewt!" As she stood there facing Flanagan, fists clenched at her sides, the import of her words began to reach her. She felt herself grow pale as she began to shake. By the time Professor Snape started hurling reproaches at her, she was already cursing herself. On the way out of the classroom, she felt the stares of her classmates like needles in her back.

* * *

><p>"<em>Proves they're doing it."<em>

_"Can you believe what she said?"_

_"Bloody purists..."_

"_I thought she was half-muggle herself...?"_

_"Pfeh. I always 'ad a bad feeling 'bout 'er anyway."_

"_...guess she's in the same batch as Williams."_

* * *

><p>Leandra sat in the detention room, fighting a losing battle against tears. Her reputation for her being a muggle-born eccentric was now replaced by the belief that she was a mudblood-hating fundamentalist. Alone to <em>think<em> the term made her feel nauseous. She hung her head deeper in her hands. In her anger, Leandra had completely forgotten that Flanagan himself was of non-magical heritage. She wondered what Chloe would think when she heard of this… she might react with a mix of amusement and pride, or shock and misunderstanding. Leandra wasn't sure which was worse.

Tonight's supervisor hadn't arrived yet and she was alone. The walls were lined with shelves filled with trophies, medals and commendations. _That's something you'll never achieve at this rate_, she thought. The sky outside of the windows was darkening. She wondered where the Dementors were out there. By the state of her mood, she reckoned, probably nearby. With a jolt she remembered Lupin. Was she still supposed or even allowed to write an article for him? Would he ever want to speak with her again? Her heart sank. What would he say if he heard of her blow-up this afternoon? Leandra let her head fall onto her arms. "Ye gods…" she groaned. She kept her head down for a long while before wondering why nobody had arrived yet. When she raised her eyes, she jumped. Professor Lupin was sitting right across from her, reclining in a chair with a patient smile on his face. Leandra squeaked, which caused Lupin's smile to turn into a grin.

"Good evening, Miss Maycomb," he said. "It looks like I've been appointed to carry out your overtime this evening." Leandra felt her face grow hot. "No need to be ashamed," Lupin continued, obviously mistaking her blush for something it wasn't. "You wouldn't believe the trouble I got into when I was a student here."

"You went to Hogwarts?" Leandra hadn't considered this before. She wondered if any of the other students knew, or if he was confiding in her alone.

"Oh yes. I was quite rambunctious." He chuckled at some memory or other. Leandra thought she detected a hint of sadness in his smile before his face became neutral again. "But why don't you tell me why you are sitting here this evening, effectively robbing me of precious recreational time?"

A wave of guilt washed over her and she felt herself taken off stance by this strangely formulated question. Upon recognising that he had meant this reprimand in jest, she took a deep breath and told him what had happened. His brow furrowed as she finished her story.

"That's interesting," he muttered. "I was told you were given detention because you broke very valuable equipment and stormed out of class without permission." He cocked an eyebrow and let the comment hang in the air.

Leandra stared at Lupin. Snape hadn't even noticed the incident with Flanagan! Her mouth formed a tiny 'o' as the weight of it all sank in. She groaned.

"What's done is done, both physically and verbally," Lupin sighed and looked straight at his student. "Miss Maycomb, you are obviously aware – at least now – of what you said to Mr Flanagan. And I'm very glad you confided in me, albeit by accident. Am I correct in the assumption that what you said was dictated solely by anger and not your actual view of his heritage?"

"Yes!" Leandra blurted. "You see, he insulted Chloe -"

"Ah," he nodded, eyes fixed on the floor. "Well, it is neither my place nor my business to learn about your relationship."

"We aren't a couple," Leandra answered with notable irritation.

"Oh, I see. But I understand why this belief could have fuelled the situation this afternoon. Ah, but my recommendation is to let such attacks slide. I know it is hard when a friend is hurt in absentia, and I know what it's like when you feel compelled to defend them. But sometimes it's better – not less painful – but sometimes better to hold your peace." Lupin's words hung in the air, heavy as lead. Finally, Lupin took a deep breath and began to speak in a softer, more informal tone. "As far as I'm concerned, nothing between us has changed. I would still like to see you write that piece we discussed. And now we have an excellent opportunity to talk about it." His eyes sparkled as he smiled at her. And before Leandra could stop herself, she found herself smiling back.


	4. Chapter 4

The open night air was a welcome relief from the confines of the castle. The moon bathed the roof in a cool silver. The shadows that latticed across the faces of the strategically placed statues made them seem so life-like that Chloe expected them to blink. She avoided looking into their eyes. Just in case. She strolled along the rooftop, relaxing her muscles and forcing her thoughts to heel. She cursed.

_Natalie's movements were so fluid and natural that Chloe was conviced that the blonde had a Lightstep Spell on her slippers as she danced amidst the pumpkins, ghosts, and goblins. With each successive piece Screamy Wonder And The Amplified Marmosets played that evening, Chloe became more and more fascinated with the spinning girl. And then… that decisive moment at the refreshment table as their eyes met over the bowl of Pumpkin Punch, both realising at exactly the same moment that it had been spiked with Screwt Water. They laughed out loud together, clinked their glasses in a bravado toast, then drained their beverages in unison – bonded before they had even known each other's names._

Chloe sat down between two stone griffins at the edge of the battlements. She shot at a bat flying by with her wand. Not even caring whether she hit or missed, she pulled her knees up to her chest. As she made to smooth the folds of her robe, she bumped up against something in her pocket. With an irritated frown Chloe reached inside her pocket and was almost surprised to rediscover the small vial she had received from Matthew. The liquid inside shimmered like molten metal. Visible only now in the moonlight, Chloe was nearly hypnotised by the dancing hues of blue and green within the vial. She raised the vial to her lips. Her last coherent thought was of how much of the drug was an overdose.

When Chloe awoke, the sun was already peeking over the horizon and the shouting and laughter that heralded a new day could already be heard from within the castle. She was lying on her back with disarranged hair and parched lips. Her skin felt like it was crawling with insects, and no matter how she tried to brush and scratch them off, they remained, burrowing somewhere beneath her flesh. Slowly, recollections of the night filtered into her memory, but only a few flashes of colour and fewer images remained. She rubbed her forehead, trying to remember, but her only reward was a pounding in her skull.

* * *

><p>Just finishing her breakfast, Leandra bit back a rather vulgar exclamation of surprise as Chloe sat down next to her.<p>

"And a good morning to you, ma'am," Chloe scooped the remaining scrambled eggs on the last available piece of cold toast. Every now and then, a drop of water escaped her hair and joined the small wet spots that adorned the material over her shoulders. Leandra did her best to ignore the stares that reached her from a few seats down the table.

"Morning, Chloe," Leandra swirled the last sip of tea around in her cup. "Had a rough night?"

"Not at all!" Chloe swallowed a bite of toast with a grin that faded a little too soon. "I had a lovely evening. Just a bit long, that's all. Overslept, hardly had time to shower before coming down."

"Mhm." Leandra raised an eyebrow. "I had a nice evening, too." Chloe gave Leandra a questioning look as she pushed the last corner of toast into her mouth. "I'll tell you later," Leandra murmured with a blush.

Chloe gulped down a chalice of berry juice, then stretched with a wince. "Ugh…" She rubbed her forehead.

"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey?"

Chloe made a face. "I wouldn't want to see her on my deathbed." She rubbed her hands over her arms and bit her lip.

"Can't blame you." Leandra got up as the Great Hall began to empty. "We should get go - Uff!"

"Watch where you're going, Maycomb," a boy hissed as he collided into Leandra. She turned around and saw Flanagan and his friends. "My _unclean lineage_ might rub off on you." One of the boys, a big, dumpy redhead, made a rude gesture at Leandra as the group walked past sneering under their breaths.

"Beedle's balls, what was that all about?" Chloe's eyes seemed to have grown two sizes as they followed Flanagan and his cohorts out of the hall.

Leandra shook her head and sighed. "C'mon. I'll tell you on the way to class."

* * *

><p><em>Diary -<em>

_I'm not sure how to express how I feel. It's strange. The first time that I can't think of the right words to say. Since my outburst last week, things have changed. Nobody really liked me before, but at least everyone ignored me. Now antagonism follows me wherever I go. I don't know what to do. I'm not who people think I am, but how can I show them? I don't have any base of communication, I don't have any proof… I don't know. But I can't help but think that nobody would hear me even if I screamed at them. _

_Chloe was amused when I told her what happened yesterday. I fail to see the humour in it, but then - that's Chloe. But she was acting a bit off today anyway... She was laughing too much and too loudly, and she kept looking around as if she was seeing ghosts. To be honest, I'm not even sure I want to know what she does when she's gone at night. It might be better for her if nobody knows. I, for one, have enough on my plate without having to worry about her._

_I don't know what to do about __him__. I want to show him what's inside my head, I want his approval, his respect. But how can I talk to him? I can't just go up to him after class and say: Hey Remus, fancy a cuppa? If only I knew what to do to gain his respect… I'd do anything! I can't get his smile out of my head, his voice always seems to be in my ears, I've become careless in Potions since we talked… and Snape is growling at me more often now, too._

_I walk past his office as often as I can, hoping that in just that moment he'll come out the door with that unique smile of his. If only it were so simple! Mind, even if it were possible, I could never muster the courage... and if I __did_ _- ye Gods, I don't even want to imagine it._

* * *

><p>"Whad'you think he looks like?" Chloe mused as she and Leandra walked to Defence Against the Dark Arts. She winked at Rose Griffith and blew her a kiss as she passed in the opposite direction.<p>

Leandra shot her a disapproving glare, which only enticed a giggle from her friend. "Haven't you seen his picture in the paper?" she asked with a shrug.

"Who hasn't? But that's a mugshot, and criminals are always made to look like criminals."

"That's because they are criminals."

"Oh, Lee," Chloe sighed and put her arm around Leandra's shoulders. "Have you never heard of the concept that evil is sexy?"

"Get stuffed, Chloe." Leandra chuckled. She was thankful to end the conversation as they entered the D.A.D.A. classroom.

Chloe let herself fall into her seat. "Well..?"

"Whaat...?"

"Sirius Black…!"

"Egh..." Leandra rolled her eyes as she put her writing and magicking utencils in order. "Like an ordinary wizard, I guess. Alright, alright! Well, to be honest, I reckon his most distinct feature would be... his eyes. If he did do all of those things… you know… and he _did_ escape from Azkaban. He lives with the guilt of murder and torture. You can't live like that without losing your mind, the man's got to be a psychopath. And people like that have the tendency to stand out in a crowd. Because of their eyes. You look at them and you can practically see the bloodlust inside. And if what they say is true, his driving passion is to k -"

"That will be enough, ladies," Professor Lupin said as he stepped into view. She mumbled an apology and shrank back into her chair. Chloe straightened her shoulders and sat upright. Lupin rubbed his eyes before addressing the class. His voice sounded lethargic. "Now that we've mastered at least the theoretical basics of non-verbal incantations, we can move on to our next topic: advanced shielding techniques."

Chloe leaned in to Leandra. "Do you think he looks a bit off?"

Leandra nodded.

"Taking recent events into consideration, I believe every witch and wizard must be able to defend themselves should the situation call for it. After all," as he looked at his students, his gaze met Leandra's, "this class is called Defence Against the Dark Arts for a reason." Despite his kind smile, Leandra recognised disregarded exhaustion in her teacher's eyes.

* * *

><p>"I hope whatever he has isn't contagious," Chloe muttered once they were in the hallway.<p>

"I don't think he's sick," Leandra replied. The glance over her shoulder toward the classroom was not as inconspicuous to Chloe as she may have wanted.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. He just seemed -" Leandra was cut short as Chloe threw her arm in front of her. "Ow! What the -"

Tristan and Natalie had just come round the corner, holding hands, wearing blissful smiles on their faces. Leandra's stomach sank and she picked at Chloe's sleeve. "Let's go."

Chloe began to shake and her breathing became shallow. _This is it,_ she thought. _If I ever have a chance to get her back, it's now._

"Lay off, Williams," Tristan growled as he put an arm around Natalie's waist and kept moving. Natalie averted her eyes and bit her lip.

"Natalie, wait -" Chloe shrugged off Leandra's hand. "Let me talk to you," As Natalie stopped and raised her eyes to Chloe's, Chloe felt the same almost painful longing as she had during their first meeting. "Pumpkin -" she had to catch herself as the pet name slipped between her lips. "Nat, We were made for each other! I don't know what you see in Tristan," - he bristled visibly - "but you'll never be _his_ Pumpkin... life was perfect when we were together, didn't you feel it?" _How can I reach you?_ She clasped her hands together as they started to shake. "With you life was worth living, I know you felt it too." She forced a smile in spite of the lump forming in her throat. "Do you remember what you promised when we climbed onto the roof that night?…" Chloe's throat closed. _Please don't go, please don't leave me._

Though Tristan urged Natalie to keep going, she freed herself from his grasp and stepped forward. She took Chloe's shoulders. Chloe closed her eyes and rested her head on Natalie's hand. She wore a different perfume now than the one she had given her, but her skin was still perfectly cool and soft. Chloe longed for her fingertips to trail down her spine the way they used to. When Chloe opened her eyes, her vision was blurred. Natalie was so close, her breath so familiar - she would give anything to see her smiling up at her in the moonlight just one more time.

"Chloe," Natalie spoke in the same tone that had always made Chloe melt. Her knees began to feel weak. "You are the most wonderful, the most beautiful, the most amazing girl I've ever met." Chloe's stomach began to knot. Slowly, Natalie removed her hands from Chloe's shoulders. "But it was just a phase. Now it's time to grow up." Chloe stopped breathing. The world tilted. Natalie's apologetic expresssion was the last thing she saw before she lost control.

The next thing she remembered, Chloe was on her knees with shaking limbs, doubled over in pain. She was dimly aware of a small crowd beginning to form around them. Natalie held a hand to bloody nail marks on her cheek, and Tristan was standing between her and Chloe. Chloe tried to move, but found herself restrained by someone behind her.

"Snape's coming!" somebody hissed. Everybody scattered.

Leandra grabbed Chloe around the waist and dragged her down another hall. As soon as she deemed the situation safe, Leandra turned to her friend who was sagging against the wall, staring into emptiness. "What the fuck, Chloe!" Leandra struggled to keep her voice down. She tried to think of something to say, but all she could focus on was the rage at her friend's behaviour. Different scenarios of reverberations went through her mind - everything from detention to expulsion to an extended holiday in St Mungo's ward for the emotionally unstable. "Do you have any idea what you just got us into?" she hissed. Chloe gave no reply; indeed she showed no sign of even acknowledging Leandra's presence. Leandra paced the hallway in restless anger before her heart gave way to worry. Leandra crouched down, bringing her face to face with Chloe. "Hey. Are you okay?" They made eye contact. The immensity of hurt that showed unveiled in Chloe's eyes took Leandra by surprise. The answer she gave was a murmur no louder than a sigh:

"No."


End file.
